


Unpacking an Unfriendly Environment

by cassowarykisses



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dialogue Heavy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1411042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassowarykisses/pseuds/cassowarykisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone is getting settled in on the Lost Light, and Brainstorm claims Perceptor has taken his assigned lab space. Perceptor thinks this is nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpacking an Unfriendly Environment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for gunthatshootsennui over on tumblr.

Perceptor dropped the first box of equipment on the toolbench with a heavy thud, then turned to the drone carrying the rest. His few personal possessions were already safely in his habsuite, but his lab was a different story. All of the equipment technically belonged to the Autobot Commonwealth, but it was his responsibility - and he’d accumulated quite a bit of it over the years. Settling in was looking to be a long task, as there were no official scientific facilities aboard the Lost Light, unlike his last posting, since the neutrals had been more concerned with surviving than advancing their knowledge. At least now that the sparkeater was safely dead, there wouldn’t be any more drama. He hoped. He would definitely need more than one chair, and some real furniture besides the built-in shelves. Grapple and Hoist would be useful in setting up some real cabinets, and some fold-away tables would be necessary, too, but they must have some extra down in storage… 

Behind him, the door snapped open manually with a sort of groaning crash, tucking into the wall socket faster than it was meant to. Perceptor whirled around and met Brainstorm’s optics.

 

"Hey, I didn’t realize it would slam like that," Brainstorm said, spreading his arms like he was asking for help. "It’s got a manual release, it  _should_  work right.”

"That’s for emergencies only," Perceptor said, trying to keep his calm. Didn’t Brainstorm have his own lab? Somewhere else? They’d worked together before, and the jet was competent enough, but Perceptor would prefer to keep his attitude on the other side of the ship. 

Brainstorm rolled his optics. “Well, this is an emergency. You’ve taken my assigned space.”

Perceptor stared at him. “We don’t have assigned spaces. Rodimus isn’t organized enough for that.”

"Pfft, you can bet Ultra Magnus is," Brainstorm said, waving a hand. "It’s just a matter of time before he comes around with a list, doing audits of how much floor space we’re each allotted."

"And you think he’ll take your desire to switch nearly identical lab spaces as a reasonable excuse to throw me out?" Perceptor said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

Across the room, Brainstorm finally stepped inside the lab and looked around. “All you have to do is quote the right section of the Autobot Code at him and he gets all starry-eyed and weak-kneed. He’d do anything you asked if you threw in the Tyrest Accord, too.”

"You wouldn’t know the Autobot Code from the collected edition of Megatron’s early speeches!" Perceptor said sharply, grabbing the next box from the drone, never breaking optic contact. "Either way, the Tyrest Accord doesn’t say anything about room assignments. It’s all about extra-Autobot crimes, though it applies to the Commonwealth as well."

"Ugh, spare me the details," Brainstorm said, shuttering his optics tightly. He sat down in the one chair and crossed his legs dramatically. "The less I know about the law, the better."

"Really?" Perceptor asked. "It wouldn’t let you plan even more outlandish violations of ethics?" Silently, he wanted to dump a box of equipment on Brainstorm’s lap and tell him to get sorting, if all of his equipment was in such good order that he could come bother Perceptor.

"No, no, it would limit my imagination. The best kinds of horror are the ones nobody ever anticipated."

"I suppose there is a sort of logic to that," Perceptor admitted. 

Brainstorm sat up straight and glared at him. “Of course there is!” he said, jabbing a finger at Perceptor. “I’m inventive, not insane.”

I remember that being debated back on Kimia, Perceptor thought, but stared coolly at Brainstorm instead. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to keep unpacking,” he said, and turned around back to the toolbench, hoping Brainstorm took the hint. 

“Wait a second!” Brainstorm exclaimed, scrambling up. He crossed the (admittedly small) room in a couple of steps, coming to a stop right behind Perceptor. Perceptor exvented. Of course he wouldn’t take the hint. Brainstorm poked him in the back, then reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Will you  _stop_?” he snapped, whirling around, then froze. Brainstorm pulled back, looking utterly surprised. Perceptor winced internally. He didn’t often lose his temper, and letting Brainstorm know that he was actually having an effect on him couldn’t possibly be for the best. Then again – on Kimia, when Brainstorm had first started trying to get his attention, ignoring him had made his attempts … escalate, to say the least. That one chemical fire that had happened when Brainstorm got frustrated had burned in the corner of his lab for _weeks_. He had eventually just dragged the fireproof blast walls over from Ironfist’s old labs and set them up as a barrier so he could get back to work.

“Um,” Brainstorm said, wings shivering uncertainly. “We haven’t settled the issue. I mean, about the lab.”

“ _Really_?” Perceptor said. “This sector of the ship was set aside for the science department and all the rooms are identical. The only reason you want this one is that I wanted it.”

“Not true!” Brainstorm said, pointing dramatically at the wall. “This one has an extra window.”

Perceptor stared at him. “Are you planning on mapping the constellations?”

“No, but it makes for a better view.” Brainstorm spread his hands, looking unreasonably proud of himself. What, did he expect Perceptor to compliment his sense of aesthetics? Actually, that wouldn’t be out of the question.

Perceptor sighed. “Yes, it does look nice, I suppose.”

“Exactly!” Brainstorm said, “Which is why I’m proposing we settle this with a contest.”

“With a what.” Perceptor said. Did Brainstorm really expect him to go along with this?

“A contest,” Brainstorm said, waving his hands excitedly. He sat down in the chair he had just vacated, and continued his explanation. “Not a science one – I mean, if you want to we could, but I remember what happened the last time we tried that and I don’t think Rodimus wants more destruction so soon into the voyage. I think we should have a drinking contest!”

“What?” Perceptor exclaimed. “Oh no we’re not. Where would you even get the highgrade? And I don’t want to get drunk around you!”

“Geez, talk about untrusting!” Brainstorm complained. “Swerve just opened a bar down on the lower decks – “

“He –“ Perceptor paused. “How on Cybertron did he get Magnus to agree?”

“Eh, what Magnus doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Brainstorm said with a wave of his hand. He leaned forward towards PErceptor. “Come on, there’ll be plenty of people around. And Swerve probably won’t serve anything toxic. Trailbreaker’s on board, though, so he might brew up something toxic.”

“I think he buys it,” Perceptor said, thinking back to some of the parties on Kimia that he had carefully avoided.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Brainstorm said. “He’s too much of an Ethics Committee wuss to try and get his hands on those chemicals. They’re probably restricted for scientific purposes only.”

“I suppose we should be thankful,” Perceptor said. “He’s no chemist, and the last thing Ratchet wants is to make impromptu fuel pump repairs because someone’s burned through theirs with improperly prepared energon.”

Brainstorm snickered. “If this bar gets banned, then I bet some people will go back to homebrewed highgrade instead. There’s no keeping some people from a nice hangover.”

“I’m aware,” Perceptor said, remembering some of the more  _interesting_  concoctions that Whirl had acquired during their time serving together on the Wreckers. Sandstorm had purged for a whole day after downing a cocktail of those, though Perceptor had always suspected that Whirl had added something else to them. He never had liked Sandstorm.

“Then shouldn’t we head down as soon as possible, before the good stuff runs out?” Brainstorm asked, sounding like he was grinning underneath his mask. If he actually had a face – Perceptor wasn’t sure, and it would be rude to ask. Even if this was Brainstorm he was dealing with, Perceptor didn’t intend to throw all good manners out the window.

“I’m not going to go,” Perceptor said, glancing away from Brainstorm towards the toolbench. Brainstorm followed his gaze.

“Oh come on!” he cried. “You can’t keep unpacking when this is all about whether you get to keep the place. I’m not helping you re-pack if you lose.”

“That won’t be an issue, since I’m not going to compete against you, Brainstorm,” Perceptor replied, crossing him arms. “Especially not in a drinking contest. I’m not stupid, and that’s not something I would enjoy anyway.” Was it even something Brainstorm would enjoy? he wondered.

Brainstorm sighed, and slumped back against the stiff-backed chair. “I kinda guessed that by now, what with the constant rejection.”

“So are you saying you’ve given up on the lab?” Perceptor asked, arching a brow. “That’s a sudden change of spark.”

“Let’s just say it was a Eureka moment,” Brainstorm said, and got up to leave. He was about to pull the door open manually when Perceptor picked up the remote from the toolbench and the door slid open. Brainstorm paused in the doorway. “At least show up?”

Perceptor said nothing, and clicked the remote again, forcing Brainstorm to jump forward out of the doorframe with a yelp. He turned back to the workbench, but didn’t particularly feel like leaving to put in his orders for more shelf space, since that would mean walking back with Brainstorm, and Grapple was infamous for leaving his comm off. It could wait.

In the meantime, he’d have to do something else. He looked down at the drone, which had stayed blankly still through the whole encounter, and picked up one box. From the clanking it made when he moved it, he bet it was filled with duraglass containers, sending his mind back to his conversation with Brainstorm.

He sighed. Maybe he would show up. Trailbreaker was sure to be there, at least, and he had been tolerable company back on Kimia when he was sober. Come to think of it, there could be any number of his old colleagues down there, if Swerve was the proprietor. He brightened. This could be a decent way to see who was onboard the Lost Light before the official crew rosters were sent out in the next day or so. With some of the people he’d seen come onboard? Brainstorm would have no problem finding fellow contestants.


End file.
